With You
by dardarbinx101
Summary: (gender-swapped) Tristan has been working with Erica ever since becoming a leader. They've gotten as close as it gets when it comes to someone like her. His thoughts keep drifting back to her and he needs to get away for a bit. There's a party at the pit and he's feeling free as he dances with his fellow Dauntless members, until she shows up and swings her hips in time with his.
1. Chapter 1

**This is for ObeliskX!**

 **This is a prompt where the characters are gender-swapped! :D So, Tris is a boy, Eric is a girl, etc.**

 **This is AU/Canon blend**

 **Characters may be ooc at times/during certain situaitons to fit plot**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters or situations**

 **This is rated M: strong language/sexual content**

 **Tris=Tristan; Eric=Erica; Four/Tobias=Four/Toby; Christina=Chris; Will=Willow; Max=Max (Maxine); Lauren=Lucas (that's it for now, will add more if I introduce more characters)**

 **This is going to be a short fic, just a few chapters :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Grunts were falling from his lips as his fists hit the bag, the sound of skin slapping against leather echoing in the room. He ignored the hot pain searing through his veins, his knuckles raw and bruised. He heard the door to the training room open, soft footfalls padding towards him.

"Hey, Tristan," he said, his voice deep.

Tristan stopped hitting the bag, his breathing slightly labored as he glanced behind him, Chris strolling in—his brown orbs bright and smile wide.

"Hey, Chris," Tristan said, wiping the sweat that was beading on his forehead with the back of his hand. "What's up?"

Chris shrugged as he leaned against the other punching bag, his lips pulling up into a smirk. "Just wanted to see if you were still up for tonight?" Trisan groaned, his hands balling up into fists once more. "Oh, when are you going to stop being such a Stiff and have a little fun?"

Tristan glared at him, his slate-blue eyes narrowing. "I don't know the meaning of fun anymore."

"That's what I'm saying! Ever since you became a leader, it's always: leader this and leader that! Come to the party. Four is going to be there," he said, his eyebrows shooting up. "She's going to be all hot in that stand-offish, brooding chick kind of way."

Tristan rolled his eyes as he got back into a fighting stance. "I have a meeting in the morning."

"I think the she-demon will understand."

Tristan locked gazes with Chris, their breaths silent before they burst into laughter. "You realize we're talking about Erica, right?"

"Yeah, you're screwed either way, man. Bitch is nine levels of crazy."

Tristan rolled his eyes again. "She's not that crazy."

"Dude."

"What?"

"Are you checking her out?"

Tristan's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You are! You sick little shit!"

"No!," Tristan hissed, his veins hot with anger. "What even made you think that? I—I just understand her a bit more. You know, since I've been working with her. She's a jerk, but, she's not _crazy."_

"Uh-huh." Chris nodded slowly, his fingers rubbing his chin idly. "Be at the party or forever be known as a Stiff, Stiff." He let out a small laugh. "And make a move on the she-demon, or I'll tell her you think her butt looks nice."

Tristan exhaled through his nose slowly, his fists pounding on the bag once more. He stood there for a while, the sounds of his punches echoing in his mind before the door squeaked open. He sighed as he jabbed the left-side ribs of the bag. "What did you forget?" There was no answer as his fists hit the bag, the feeling of eyes staring at his back shivering up his spine. "Seriously, Chris. I told you that I don't like her so could you—" He let out a small gasp as he glanced over his shoulder, her silvery-blue eyes locked on him. He took a deep breath as he stared at her, her blonde hair falling in gentle waves over her left shoulder, the right side completely shaven. She raised her pierced eyebrow, her full lips turning up at the ends as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Erica."

"Tristan," she said, her voice a sweet venom. "I see you're still practicing on the punching bags."

Tristan nodded, resisting the urge to squirm under her gaze. "Yeah."

She nodded as she stepped forward, her fingers grazing the bag as she tilted her head towards Tristan. "You do need the practice. You're still a weak little Stiff." Tristan swallowed hard, heat coloring his cheeks. A smirk played at her lips, as she leaned against the bag—her eyes slightly narrowed. "So, who do you like?"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you _not_ like?"

Tristan blinked a few times, her gray-blue eyes locked on him, their gaze fiery and intense. "Uh," he said, his skin itching under her gaze. "Four."

Something unreadable flashed across her face as she nodded slowly. "Did you hear about the party in the pit?" She stalked behind him, her hands adjusting his arms in his fighting stance. "Remember to block your face and torso," she said, scoffing softly.

Tristan nodded. "Yeah, Chris wanted me to go." He got back into a proper fighting stance, his eyes glancing to Erica. She nodded once, Tristan's eyes locking back on the bag as his fists shot out.

"Better form. You'll build more muscle soon enough, now that you're Dauntless." Erica sighed as she stared at him for a while, her jaw clenched as she rubbed her neck, her fingers grazing the bold leadership tattoos that painted her skin. "We have a meeting with Max in the morning. You know how she gets when leaders show up for those meetings after a night of partying." Tristan nodded, remembering how Max had reprimanded Lucas for his hangover. "You better be able to keep your shit together, then. You're under me—you look bad, I look bad." She drew closer to him, her faces inches from his. He swallowed hard, his skin tingling as he drowned in her silvery-blue eyes. "I don't like looking bad. Got it, Stiff?"

Tristan nodded. "Got it."

Erica rolled her eyes, her fingertips playing with the ends of her hair idly. "Keep practicing, Stiff. Your left jab needs major work and your fighting stance is pathetic when you're not focused." With that, she stalked off—her hips swaying softly with each step.

* * *

Tristan tried to keep a neutral expression as he made his way to his apartment, his feet pounding against the floor as he twisted through the hallway. Anger was boiling beneath Tristan's skin as his voice kept cascading down his ear canal. "Are you going to come?" Chris asked as he walked beside Tristan. "Are you going to come?" He changed the pitch of his voice every now and then, inflecting here or inflecting there. "Are you coming?"

Tristan peered at Chris, his slate-blue eyes glaring daggers. "Will you shut up?"

Chris gave a small pout before sighing. "Are you going to come to the party?"

Tristan huffed as they continued down the hall, the leadership apartments coming into view. Chris kept chanting his question as Tristan entered his room code—the door hissing as it popped open. Tristan turned and glared at Chris, his smile warm and bright. "Can you stop?"

"Only if you say you're coming to the party tonight."

"If you bring up the party one more time—"

"You'll do what, Stiff?" her wispy voice asked. A shiver ran down Trisan's spine as he glanced across the hall, her slate-blue eyes gleaming at him.

"Erica," Tristan said, his mouth running dry. "I—"

Erica rolled her eyes as she leaned in the doorframe to her apartment. "Just go to the fucking party. Chris' constant begging is getting on my nerves."

"Yeah! Listen to the she-demon!" Chris cheered.

Tristan couldn't hold back the small laugh that bubbled up his throat, Erica's cheeks turning pink and her nostrils flaring before she turned her deadly gaze on Tristan—his breath hitching in his throat. She narrowed her eyes before turning back to Chris, her lips pulling up into a smile. "Careful, Chris. Don't want to make another trip to the chasm, do we?"

Chris swallowed hard before averting his gaze. "Just show up, please?"

"Why do you want me to go so badly?"

Chris shrugged. "You're my best friend and I want you to have fun and stop being such a Stiff?"

Tristan quirked his brow, a snort on his lips. "Now the real reason?"

Chris' face broke out in a wide smile. "See you there." He glanced to Erica over his shoulder. "You better be there, too, She-Witch."

A low growl sounded from her throat as she glared at him. "Fuck off, Smartmouth," she spat before retreating into her apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.

Tristan shook his head as he headed into his own apartment. He walked into his bedroom and pulled out a new outfit: a plain black shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He stalked to the bathroom and peeled off his own clothes. His reflection caught his eye and he glanced to the mirror. His dirty-blond hair was short and styled messy, the small waves flaring off in different directions. His eyes were the same color as Erica's, steel-blue, intense as a flickering flame. His held a bright fire in their irises, a spark that ignited his veins. Her eyes were intense in a different way, cold and intimidating like a deep frost. He shook his head, trying to get her out of his mind. He glanced down to his collar bone, the three ravens stark against his pale skin. He looked at his body, how his biceps seemed bigger and his stomach was toned—his muscles rippling beneath his skin. With a sigh, he turned on the water and stepped into the shower, a hiss on his lips as the hot water trickled down his skin.

He poured the shampoo onto his palm, massaging his scalp as he thought about Chris' accusations. _I don't like her,_ he thought with a scoff. _She's so off-putting. She's a cruel jerk—thought she has her moments._ He sighed as he rinsed out the shampoo, his thoughts drifting back to Erica—how her tattoos were bold against her pale skin. He could drown in her irises, memorize the curve of her lips. He shook his head as he lathered his hair with conditioner. _Stop thinking about her._ But he couldn't help it. He thought about how her black vest-top hugged her curves, and imagined her long legs wrapped around his— _Nope. No more,_ his mind whispered.

He tried to keep his mind off of her, he really did. But as he was lathering his body with his soap, he couldn't help but imagine her hands running down the length of his body. _Fuck,_ he thought as his body reacted to his inner ramblings, blood rushing down the length of his body. _This is all Chris' fault,_ Tristan cursed. _I have never thought about her in that way—that's so—_ Tristan let out a deep sigh, unable to continue his thought process as he rinsed the soap from his body. _Tonight will take my mind off of it—off of her._

* * *

The pit was almost dark as he made his way across the floor. Flashes of blue and red would streak the darkness every now and then, the dancing bodies looking like a sea os shadows. The air was thick, breaths and heat mingling all around him as he squeezed through the bodies. He glanced to a few people, their faces and bodies iluminated with various streaks of color.

"It's glowing body paint," Chris said by his ear. Tristan glanced to Chris, a snicker falling from his lips as he took in the lovely blue mustache painted above his lip. "It's not funny."

"I think it's hilarious," Willow said as she planted a kiss to his cheek. "Hey, Tris."

"Hey, Will," Tristan smiled, a gasp escaping his lips as hands struck his ass. He turned around, the culprit disappearing into the sea of blues and oranges.

"Nice hand-prints," a thick voice said.

Tristan turned around, his eyes locking with dark-blue ones. He smiled, taking in how her dark-brown hair curled around her shoulders. "Hey, Four." He rolled his eyes when he noticed the pink fingerprints decorating her chest. "Nice fingerprints."

"Want a drink?"

Tristan nodded as he let her lead him to the bar. Tristan hung back a little as Four grabbed two beers, her fingers twisting the cap off before handing it to him. "Thanks." He swallowed the drink, resisting the urge to wince as the bitter liquid ran down his throat. They stood there, talking about life in Dauntless—leadership versus the control room. Four would roll her eyes when Tristan would mention Erica.

Tristan was wavering now, his vision bluring in and out as he finished his seventh drink. Four smiled as she took his empty bottle away, her fingers lacing with his. "Wanna dance?" Tristan's lips pulled down for a moment, his mind wanting to replace her fingers with someone else's but his brain was too scattered to think straight.

Tristan nodded as he followed her farther into the mass of Dauntless. Her back was to him as their hips swayed together, the bass of the music vibrating in his ribcage. His hands were shaking as they gripped her hips, her hair tickling his chin as she moved in front of him. He let the rhythm of the song whisk him away, their bodies molding to the bodies that surrounded them, florescent paint splattering across the sea of people. His limbs were slow and sloppy as he danced, alcohol lacing his limbs as if he were wading through quicksand.

Tristan was getting more comfortable, his fingers gripping Four's hips tighter when her low voice was in his ear. "Mind if I cut in?"

Four turned around and glared at Erica, her jaw rigid as she left through the mass of people. Tristan turned to face Erica, blue paint decorating her face like tribal symbols. "Sure."

The nerves returned to him as his hands gripped her hips, electricity shooting through his veins as their skin made contact. Their hips swung in time with one another, her ass pressing against him. He sucked in a deep breath as he backed up a few times, her back pressing against him more firmly. She turned around in his grip, her arms snaking around his neck. Her lips pulled up into a smirk. His fingers slid down her ass, heat crawling up his neck as she pressed closer against him. "You're drunk," she whispered by his ear, her hot breath tickling his neck.

Tristan's eyes narrowed as he wobbled backwards, Erica's feet propelling them back. "I am not."

Her eyebrow quirked. "I can smell beer on you. How many have you had? Five?"

Tristan shrugged, his eyes averted. "Seven," he muttered.

Erica scoffed as her hands dragged down his chest, tingles shooting down his spine as her nails dug into his flesh. "You really want to get chewed out by Max, don't you Stiff?"

Tristan rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I feel fine." Erica gave him a pointed look before glancing up to the ceiling—the sprinklers hissing to life. Tristan felt the coldness seep into his bones as the paint fell from the sprinklers but he didn't bother to look up to the ceiling. Cheers and hollers echoed around them, hands and bodies dancing through the pit, but Tristan stayed still. His eyes were too busy watching Erica's face, how her skin lit up as her eyes watched the paint fall. He watched the purple mix with the blue, the color streaking down her cheeks. He followed the little droplets of orange that slipped down her chest, tiger stripes painting her shoulders. He didn't know when his feet propelled him forward or when his hands took a hold of her cheeks. Her steel-blue eyes locked with his, her lips slightly parted as pink splattered across the birdge of her nose—almost like freckles. Tristan tasted her gasp as he pressed his lips to hers, their lips molding together as paint slicked between their bodies.

* * *

The click of the door shutting forced Tristan to open his eyes all of the way, a gasp on his tongue as he looked around the room. _I'm in a bathroom?_ The hiss of the water turning on made him jump, a small laugh echoing in his mind as he glanced over his shoulder. He sucked in a deep breath as he looked over Erica, her entire body painted—her hair slicked back in reds and blues. She turned her steely gaze to him, a smirk playing at her lips as she stalked closer to him. "Are you a little more sober, now?"

Tristan swallowed hard as her fingers skirted up his chest, his heart beating against his ribcage. "I think so," he choked out, her smirk widening. She leaned in closer to him, her lips ghosting over his. "What are you doing?"

She pulled back, her head tilted to the side as she studied him. "Taking a shower." His mind didn't register her words until her fingertips began to peel back her clothes. He inhaled sharply as she stepped out of her pants, her top falling to the floor. She stood in just her bra and underwear, Tristan's eyes tracing every inch of her skin before locking with her silvery-blue orbs. "Join me." Tristan blinked rapidly, heat coloring his cheeks as she turned her back on him, her bra falling from her chest.

"What?"

"It really turned me on in the pit when you kissed me. I never thought of you like that—but you just took charge." She smirked as she glanced over her shoulder, her fingertips playing with the hem of her underwear. "I normally take charge."

"What are—"

He swallowed hard as he watched the fabirc fall to the floor, her naked form standing before him. She pulled the door open, the steam rolling over him as she stepped into the stall. Her eyes locked with his as she stood in the doorway, her fingers tapping against the glass. "It wasn't an offer or a suggestion, Stiff." Her eyes traveled down the length of his body, her lower lip catching between her teeth as she looked back up to him. "It was an order." She shut the door behind her, the clang echoing in the room as she stood under the water. He stood there, watching the water trickle down her skin as her hands explore her own body—the steam blurring her movements. Tristan tilted his head to the side, his pants incredibly tight as he watched her fingertips plunge between her legs, a soft moan echoing above the sounds of the flowing water. _Fuck me,_ he thought as her eyes locked with his, a deadly smirk dancing across her lips.

* * *

 **There we have it :) I love gender-swapped stuff so I was super happy to take this on xD**

 **Starting tomorrow I am going to be working on the 5 senses challenge. I'll be writing for the 100 fandom. I won't get back to the Divegrent fandom until the ned of this weekend or beginning of next week when I work on the sequel to (Don't You) Forget About Me, the 4th part in the Bound to You series, and a one-shot based on my D &D character's backstory with my friend's character. :) Then back to my regularly scheduled sotires (BtB;TLAMLY;Burning Roses;It Had to be You;With You) **

**Follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here we are! Sorry this took so long. I got behind becasue of college, work hours, and ffnet being down that one time. And I am working on a lot of stories xD**

 **ANyway.**

 **This is AU (gender-swapped)**

 **Characters may or may not be ooc at times/during certain situations**

 **I do not own Divergent or any related characters**

 **Rated M: strong language/sexual content**

 **enjoy :)**

* * *

Time was moving slowly as Tristan peeled his clothes off, paint crusting off onto the floor. His heartbeat was drumming in his ears as he watched her through the steam. Inhaling sharply, he made his way to the door—his shaking hand gripping the handle. _Am I really about to do this?_ She locked eyes with him and he felt his world shift.

There was just something in her silvery-blue orbs, the way the pinks and purples streamed down her face, that made Tristan's heart skip a beat. He slid the door open, his breath hitching at the suction between the glass. The water was warm, the misty-steam rolling over his skin as he stepped into the shower. She smirked at him, her pierced eyebrow shooting up. "Are you going to just stare at me the whole time, Stiff?" He sucked in a deep breath, heat crawling up his neck. "Oh, don't tell me you're—you're a—"

"Yes," he snapped with a huff. Her jaw grew rigid and her eyes were like ice—deadly. He sucked in a deep breath. "Yes."

Her face softened a little, her lip between her teeth. "I am your instructor. It is my responsibility to teach you," she quipped. "We're going to play by my rules, got it? You do what I say, when I say it. You disobey and—you'll get punished." A shiver ran down his spine as her lips pulled up into a wicked smirk. "Is that clear?" He nodded. "More importantly," she whispered as her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands immediately gripped her hips, his fingertips pressing into her smooth skin. "Is that okay?" She pressed her lips to his lightly, a small laugh escaping her when Tristan tried to deepen the kiss.

"Yeah," he whispered, tingles shooting down his spine.

She trailed kisses down his jaw-line, her lips as soft as rose petals. Tristan's back pressed against the wall, the cold tiles prickling his flesh with goosebumps as the warm water trickled down his skin. Erica continued to kiss down his body, her tongue tickling down his skin. Tristan put his palms against the tiled wall, not knowing what to do with them quite yet.

His heart was beating against his ribcage as he watched her go lower, her nails scraping down his inner thighs. He let out a low hiss, her eyes locking on his as a smirk played at her lips. "My, my Tristan—you've been holding out on me." He was hoping the steam and water could cover the small blush on his cheeks. "Don't be such a Stiff," she sneered. He averted his gaze, watching the colors swirl together towards the drain. He heard her sigh softly, her warm breath tickling his sensitive skin.

He glanced back down to her, watching how the water trickled down her skin, the way her breasts were pressed together as she sat down on her knees before him. He inhaled sharply, her sweet scent wafting up to him, his whole body aflame. "Erica," he began but she cut him off with a pointed look, another hiss escaping him as she dug her nails into his inner thighs once more.

"Sit back and relax, Stiff. I'm in control now." With that, she blew cold air over his length, a shiver pulsing down his spine. He wanted to wipe that smirk right off of her lips but then her tongue was tracing down his shaft and his mind went blank.

He pressed his back firmly against the wall as her lips wrapped around him. He let out a shaky sigh as she moved up and down—slowly. Her lips were so soft against his skin, her tongue tracing every inch of him. She swirled her tongue around his head and a shudder ran through him, his throbbing member pulsing in her throat.

Her fingernails kept running up and down his thighs as she moved up and down on him, his hiss molding into a breathy moan. His head lulled back onto the wall, the water streaming over his face as he bucked his hips up to her. A shiver rushed through him as she growled low in her throat, the sound vibrating around him. Her hands slammed his hips back into the wall, a jolt of pain tickling his skin before a moan bubbled up his throat—her tongue twisting around him as one of her hands massaged his balls. "Fuck," he whispered between moans, his mind not working well enough to form actual sentences.

He could only hold himself against the wall, his fingers slowly working into her hair. She moaned against him as he pulled and twisted on her blonde strands—the sounds tickling his throbbing member. He let out another shaky moan, bucking his hips up softly. A shiver rocked through him and it was all too much for him. Her sweet scent rolling over him in the warm steam, the hot water tickling between their bodies, her tongue tracing over his skin, her soft lips wrapped around him.

His fingers knotted in her hair as her name fell from his lips, their moans mixing together as he thrust into her throat. His throbbing member pulsed between her lips before stilling inside her. His legs were trembling, his whole body weak. His fingers worked themselves out of her hair, his palms pressing against the cold tiles once more. He didn't know when she had separated from him or when she had stood up from her knees, but suddenly she was running her fingers across his chest and pressing her lips to his with brutal passion.

He nipped at her lower lip and her moan washed over him. He slid his tongue over hers and they danced together, a battle for dominance that she soon won as she slammed his back against the wall. "You're kind of cute when you try to assert yourself," she whispered against his lips, her breath tickling his skin. She caught his lower lip between her teeth and clamped down, copper filling his mouth. She sighed softly, tracing her tongue along his lips. "But I'm in charge, Stiff. Remember?"

He nodded before he started to place hot, open-mouth kisses along her neck—sucking on her pulse point. She moaned softly, her nails raking down his chest. He growled against her skin as he kissed lower, her fingers pulling at his hair. He was kissing down her stomach when she yanked him up and pushed him against the wall. "What—"

"Do you even know what to do?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, her tone almost degrading. Like he was a child. "I'm not—it's not like—" He let out a frustrated sigh. It was always hard to talk to Erica, get his words out straight. It was even harder as she pressed her naked body against his—her hardening buds skimming his chest.

"We can experiment with that later. Right now I want to do something else."

"I just wanted to do something for you, after you just—"

She cut him off with a kiss, her tongue running along his lips. "That's sweet." She smirked against him, her silvery-blue eyes gleaming beneath the water. "But I need you to do something else."

"What?" he asked, his voice low. Her lips were in a brilliant smile as she turned off the water, goosebumps prickling his skin as the steam abandoned them.

"I want you to fuck my brains out, Stiff." He swallowed hard, her calculating eyes watching each little movement of his. "Think you can manage?" He sucked in a deep breath as her finger traced up and down his length, his skin aflame once more.

* * *

Her bedroom was simple, the walls an off-white—almost blue. The bed was modest with black sheets. Tristan ran his fingers over her black comforter, the fabric smooth and soft—like water flowing between his fingertips. He glanced to Erica, his breath hitching as she walked towards the bed, her naked form just as breathtaking as before. He shook his head, his hand rubbing at his neck. _This is just—just sex. It doesn't mean anything, so stop thinking of her like that,_ his mind hissed as she crawled across the bed.

She was on all fours staring at him with that devilish smirk of hers, her slate-blue orbs bright. "Come here," she ordered, her voice low.

He swallowed hard as he inched forward, blood already rushing down below. He climbed up onto the bed, one knee at a time and met her halfway. He leaned in for a kiss and she hovered her lips just out of reach. "Hey," he whispered darkly.

She smirked at him. "Work for it."

He glared at her, her smirk widening in response. Sighing, he pushed forward, his heart in his throat as her head lowered to the pillow. He climbed over top of her, his hands running along her sides. Her skin was so soft against the pads of his fingertips. He nestled himself between her legs, her thighs raised on either side of him. His hands pinned her wrists down and he smirked down at her. "I thought you were in control?" He hoped his blush wasn't deep. He was never this bold, but he couldn't stop the words from falling from his lips.

She quirked an eyebrow at him before arching her body. Her breasts skimmed past his face and her slick slit rubbed over his length before she settled back on the bed. Her growled low in his throat as her lips pulled up into a brilliant smirk. "I think I know who is really in control, even if you pin me down."

Gods, he wanted to wipe that smirk off of her lips. His member was twitching at her entrance but he had to hold off—a small smirk of his own forming on his lips. She wiggled beneath him, waiting for him to thrust inside her—but he didn't. She whined softly, her eyes narrowing before a sharp cry fell from her tongue.

He latched onto a breast, his teeth clamping around a nipple. He pulled and twisted, his tongue swirling around the hardening peak. He repeated the process on the other breath, her body arching into him. He pulled back slowly, smiling as she glared up at him—her cheeks slightly flushed. "Never thought I'd be able to pin the great Erica down."

She rolled her eyes as she bucked her hips up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He grunted softly as she used her momentum to flip them around, her hands pinning his wrists above his head. "You had your chance, Tristan." She pressed his wrists down into the bed, a hiss on his tongue as her fingernails dug into his skin. "Be a good boy and don't move." He nodded softly as he watched her slid off of him. He had opened his mouth to speak but quickly sealed his lips when she glared at him. She searched for something around the bed for a moment before coming back up, two leather straps in her hands. She hovered back over him and tied his wrists down. "You looks so hot right now, Stiff. All tied down like a fucking animal," she whispered before crashing her lips to his.

He kissed her back hard, his body arching into her touch as she skimmed her nails down his skin. He moaned into her mouth, the pain turning to pleasure as she straddled him. Her hands smoothed over his chest as she pushed herself down on him. He released a long breath, his head lulling back onto the pillow as he filled every inch of her. She tightened her walls around him as she rocked slowly, his throbbing member twitching between her lower lips.

She raked her nails down his chest again, the sting a welcomed pain as he thrust up inside her. She kept her pace slow, her eyes watching him intensely as his breaths became more labored.

She bit his lower lip before kissing him softly, her hips rolling towards him a bit faster now. She arched her body back, one hand gripping his ankle for support while the other skimmed down her body. She rubbed at her entrance furiously, moans bubbling up her throat. He thrust up harder, his toes curling and spine tingling.

His veins were on fire as he watched her, her lips slightly parted and eyes heavy-lidded. She let out a breathy moan, her body picking up pace. Tristan writhed beneath her, his fingers itching to touch her, to hold her, to do something. But he was tied down, his body arching into her as his thrusts became more erratic. A shiver pulsed through him and he felt her walls clamp down around him, her whole body trembling.

Her fingers were rubbing furiously at her bundle of nerves, her moans short and breathy as her nails dug into his ankle. She met each thrust, her thighs trembling around him. She let out a sharp cry, his name on her tongue as spasms rocked through her body. Tristan watched her as she came, her sweat-glistened skin flushed, lips slightly parted, and hair falling in messy waves over her one shoulder. Her silvery-blue eyes were staring at him behind her thick lashes, a faint smile on her lips.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. He swallowed hard, hoping she didn't hear him between all of their low moans and labored breaths. He thrust into her a few more times, her hips still meeting each of his thrusts. His veins were on fire and he felt his skin ignite, electricity shooting down to his toes. He felt a spasm rock through him, his whole body trembling before going rigid. He moaned her name softly as she fell over top of him. She kissed up his neck as she undid the ties, his wrists free from their bonds.

He settled down into the bed, his skin hot and sticky with sweat—but still itching to be near her. He glanced at her and inhaled sharply. Her slate-blue orbs were already locked on him as she laid on her side, her head propped up on her hand. He squirmed beneath her gaze, a deadly silence filling the air. Her lips tugged up at the ends and she reached out slowly, her fingers spreading across his chest. "Did you mean that?"

He blinked at her, confusion filling his veins. "Mean what?"

She sighed softly as she adjusted herself, her fingers running through her hair. "What you just said." She averted her gaze, her lip between her teeth, before she looked back to him. "About me being beautiful."

"Of course."

He watched her swallow hard, her eyes like glass. "I don't know what you expect from this, Stiff. I—I don't do—I've never done a—"

"I don't know what I want," Tristan said honestly. "But I do know that I can't stop thinking about you."

"This was one night."

He shook his head, his hand capturing her hand when she tried to pull away. "No." He sucked in a deep breath. _It's too late now._ "I've always thought about you. I just—I just didn't know what it all meant."

"And what does it mean?" Her voice wasn't warm and her eyes were like a hard stone. _She's trying to put walls up._

"It means I'm either really stupid or highly reckless."

He leaned forward, her lips in a thin line before she scoffed softly. She leaned in, her lips in a smirk as she dusted them over his lips. "I think you just said the same thing twice, Stiff."

He let out a small laugh. "Did I?"

She nodded. "Do we have to label it?"

"Maybe not right away," he whispered. "But I don't know how long I can go on like that. I'm not like that."

Erica nodded as she pressed her lips to his softly. "Such a Stiff." He rolled his eyes as he crashed his lips to hers, their tongues dancing together—sweat and warmth melting on his tongue as they tangled up in one another once more.

* * *

 **So this is getting at least one more chapter, maybe 2. I'll see :)**

 **Follow/favorite/review; do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until Next time, bye-bye! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry this is late. Life got in the way. Started watching Mr. Robot (so good), started Breaking Bad (so good, and I know...I'm late to the game), had my nephew's birthday party, so much homework, classes are crazy, work is crazy. Ugh.**

 **This is AU**

 **Genderbent, but y'all should know that by now ;)**

 **Characters may be ooc at times**

 **I do not Own Divergent or any related characters/situations**

 **RRated M: strong language/sexual content**

 **enjoy ;)**

* * *

Tristan was having a hard time focusing. The leader's meeting felt like it was stretching on and on and he could only pick up every other word that left Max's lips. He sighed softly, rubbing the backs of his eyelids for a moment. He glanced to Max, her dark orbs peering around the room as she talked. He sat up straight as her eyes locked on him, another soft sigh escaping him when he was free from her steady gaze.

He leaned back in his chair, his slate-blue orbs glancing to Erica. She sat beside him, her back rigid and eyes locked on Max. Her blonde hair fell in loose curls over her shoulder and her skin was a gentle cream color. Tristan's fingers were itching to run along her side and twist up into her hair and yank until she cried out. He shook his head, his fingertips drumming on the cold desk to freeze over his heated veins. _Stop thinking like that,_ his mind hissed. _She is an icebox with thick walls—impenetrable._

He bit down on his lower lip as he recalled the previous night, heat crawling up his neck as memories of her soft lips around him flooded his mind. He shifted in his seat, the cold leather extremely uncomfortable as he remembered how it felt to move inside her, her growls vibrating over his skin as their lips molded together.

 _Think of something else,_ his mind urged.

He swallowed hard as he thought back to this morning. They had woken up in each other's arms, her head on his chest and his arms around her waist. There had been a moment, Tristan was sure of it, when Erica's lips were pulled up in a bright smile. Her silvery-blue orbs were gleaming as they took in their tangled limbs and mixing breaths. But then it faded. Her lips tugged back down and her eyes were like a cold stone.

Tristan was positive that fleeting moment was real, though. He knew it had to be because of the way he watched the sunlight crawl across her bedroom—the yellows and whites stretching their lazy limbs across her soft skin as dust swirled in the air. He memorized each birthmark, each little freckle that dotted her skin. He knew the way her blonde hair fell flat against her back—straight strands that felt like silk between his fingertips. He found the small dimple on her right cheek even though she'd cover it up or rarely smile a genuine smile. A smile like the one she gave that morning when she took in how close they were—until she realized he was awake and watching her.

He snuck another glance to her, his breath hitching in his throat when her eyes locked with his. She wasn't smiling but her eyes weren't entirely like ice. They were calculating, taking in each little movement he gave. He gave her a small smile before turning back to Max, trying to focus on her words—failing miserably.

He shuddered as her nails traced up his thigh, applying just enough pressure to make it sting sweetly. He wanted to turn and glare at her, but Max's eyes had found him again and weren't moving on. Another shiver pulsed down his spine as her hot breath tickled his skin, her soft lips pressing against his ear with each word.

"You seem distracted, Stiff," Erica whispered, amusement lacing her voice.

He swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the cold desk loosely. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He heard her snort softly, her fingertips tracing up his leg lazily. "I don't know, Stiff," she whispered, her index finger running over his length. He jumped a little, trying to give Max a reassuring smile as her narrowed eyes zoned in on him. "You seem a tad—jumpy."

He glared at her as a small laugh fell from her lips. Shaking his head, he turned to face Max again. He could still feel the ghost of her touch, his veins tingling. He shifted in his seat, a gasp falling from his lips as her hand brushed down his stomach, the tips of her fingers playing at the hem of his boxers.

"Is there something wrong, Tristan?" Max asked, her voice clipped and sharp.

Tristan inhaled sharply, all eyes falling to him. He felt heat crawl up his neck and he wasn't sure if his heart was drumming against his ribcage because everyone was staring at him or because Erica was slowly stroking him beneath the table. "Everything's fine, Max," he choked out.

He gripped Erica's wrist and pulled her hand out slowly, a hiss falling from her lips as he pushed her hand away. Max eyed him for a long minute before nodding softly. "Alright. You all have a ton of paperwork to get done. Get out of here, this meeting is over."

Everyone filed out of the room except for Tristan and Erica. He watched her get up and walk to the door, her hips swaying more than usual. He bit his lip, his veins igniting as his fingertips itched to grip her hips and slam her against the desk.

She stopped suddenly and leaned against the doorframe, her back arching in a way that made each curve stand out against the darkness behind her. She gave him a lopsided smirk and he felt his stomach dip. "Are you coming, Stiff?"

There was a dark gleam in her eye but it seemed to vanish as quickly as it had appeared. Sighing, he stood up and pushed his chair in—her sweet scent encasing him as he brushed past her.

* * *

Tristan groaned softly, his head throbbing against his skull as the words on the screen began to blur. He rubbed his temples hard and closed his eyes, willing the headache to vanish. Sighing, he glanced back to the screen—his curser blinking, waiting for more words to flow from his fingertips. "You're mocking me," he whispered bitterly.

"You know, Stiff, if people catch you talking to inanimate objects—they just might think you're crazy."

Tristan glanced up from his computer screen, his orbs locking with hers. She gave him a wicked smirk as she strolled into his office. "This last article I have to respond to is killing me," he growled.

She tapped her slender fingers on the desk, her silver-blue orbs sending shivers down his spine. "I think someone needs a break," she said, her leg stretching out to kick the door shut. Her lips twitched up as he jumped at the loud bang, his eyes glaring daggers at her. "Oh, don't be like that now," she cooed as she draped herself across his desk, her hands pushing various supplies and papers onto the floor. "I'm only trying to help."

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and husky as her face drew closer to his own. "I—I have paperwork to do."

"Uh-huh," she said, her pupils blown out all the way. She ran her fingers down his chest before sliding them back up and over to the monitor. "I said it's time for a break."

"But—" he began but sealed his lips when her eyes froze over—a cold fire burning through him as she pressed the power button.

He watched the screen fade to black and felt the chair shift back. She swung her legs over and held onto his shoulders. "You're so tense, Tristan."

"I've had a lot on my mind," he replied evenly, her eyes snapping up to him. He could see her processing everything, her mind churning like gears in a clock. _You've been on my mind,_ his mind whispered.

"Can we not have this discussion right now?"

Tristan exhaled slowly. He nodded once and her lips twitched up slightly. Her fingertips were tracing down his chest and towards his pants when he gripped her wrists and pulled her back up. She glared at him, her mouth opened to speak but he didn't let her. He crashed his lips to hers, all words dying on her tongue as he swiped his over hers. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly, pulling here and there. He moaned in her mouth, his whole body aflame as his fingertips dug into her hips. He pressed her against his desk before trailing kisses along her jawline.

She moaned softly as he kissed down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He nipped here and there before finding her pulse point and sucking on it. She arched into him, his hands smoothing up her body to grab her breasts as he assaulted her neck. He squeezed softly before a hiss fell from his lips as she yanked on his hair.

"Stop being such a Stiff and fucking grip me like you mean it," she whispered, her voice breathy as another moan escaped her—his hands wrapping around her soft mounds.

He twisted and massaged, her hardening buds peeking out through the fabric of her top. He kissed back up to her lips and bit down hard, a small yelp vibrating on his tongue as he pulled back. He pulled off her top, groaning mentally when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. She gave him a wicked smirk and he felt his stomach twist, electricity shooting through his veins.

He kissed back down her neck and trailed his tongue between her breasts. He circled each one before latching onto a nipple, his teeth clamping down until her hiss and moans blended together. He did the same to the other nipple, his tongue soothing each bite before he trailed back down her body.

He felt her shiver beneath him as his fingertips worked down her pants. He reached for her underwear when she stopped him. He glanced up to her, her face unreadable. "What?" he asked, his own desire lacing his voice thickly.

He watched her swallow before she sighed. "You don't—"

"Erica, let me do this," Tristan said, his fingertips running up and down her smooth thighs. "For you." Her eyes snapped to him, bright and gleaming—like moonlight.

He reached back down but her hands stopped her again. A guttural growl bubbled up his throat and her lips pulled up into a brilliant smile. She let her hands smooth down her stomach, her fingertips playing with the hem of her underwear before she lifted herself up and tossed the fabric aside. She spread her legs for him as she leaned back on the desk, her eyes locked on him.

He leaned in closer and breathed in her heady scent, blood rushing down below. His fingertips gripped her hips tightly, a hiss on her tongue as his nails raked down her skin. Her shiver vibrated over his skin as he hovered over her, placing hot open-mouthed kisses up each inner thigh. She writhed slightly on the desk, her soft moans almost pleading. Almost.

He circled her slit, dusting his lips over her skin. She growled softly as she bucked her hips up, her thighs trembling beneath his fingertips. He held his dark chuckle in, not wanting to face her wrath if he had let his laugh escape him. He felt her eyes burning through him before he let his tongue slip between her lower lips.

He moaned into her, her shiver running over him as his tongue moved inside her. She tasted so sweet and dark—her metallic taste the closest thing he could link to pure desire.

He swirled his tongue inside of her before flicking up, a delicate moan hanging off of her tongue. The way her hips would buck up towards him and how her fingers worked themselves into his hair spurred him on—his tongue plunging in deeper as he slipped a finger past her sensitive folds. She arched her back off of the desk as he curled his digit inside her, her thighs shaking around him. Her hips were rolling towards him in a desperate rhythm, his tongue dancing inside her as he added another finger.

His fingers pumped in and out, his tongue flicking over that spot that made her cry out. He resisted the urge to take her right then and settled with letting her desire and pleasure roll over him in thick waves.

He growled inside of her as she yanked on his hair, her body shivering in response. His tongue and fingers worked faster when he felt her thighs quiver, a spasm rocking through her. Her moans were short and breathy now, her hips rolling towards him erratically as her fingers gripped his hair and pushed him towards her. He looked up to her as she came, watching her face as she rode out her bliss. His tongue continued to stroke her as his fingers moved inside of her, her cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted.

He felt her spasm a few times before going rigid, her thighs trembling weakly around him. She was panting heavily as she peered down at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He lapped up her juices, his member twitching to slip inside her.

Tristan pulled himself up and fell back to his chair as he watched her, her lips in a brilliant smile as she laid back on his desk. She was there like that for a good while, her breathing beginning to even out. She sat up slowly, her smile dissolving and eyes turning to ice.

"Why do you do that?" she asked, her voice irritatingly distant.

"Do what?"

"Stare at me like that." She began running her fingers through her hair, working out the knots.

"Because you're beautiful."

He watched her swallow, her lips in a thin line. "That was fun, Stiff. We should get back to work." She slipped off of his desk and grabbed her clothes. He watched her lean against the door as she tried to slip her underwear back on.

Tristan didn't know what propelled him forward but suddenly he was walking towards her. She had managed to loop one leg through her underwear when she gasped softly, his chest pressing against her back.

His hands gripped her wrists and pinned them over her head as she twisted back to peer at him over her shoulder. Her body was so warm and her sweat-glistened skin felt like living electricity against him. "You can't keep doing that," he whispered by her ear, his lips kissing across her neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" she growled, her wrists trying to break free from his grasp.

He scoffed as he turned her around, one hand still pinning her wrists down while the other slid up her body. "You can't keep doing that," he repeated.

"Doing what?" she spat, her eyes threatening to freeze his veins.

"Using me."

"I'm not—"

"I don't know how I feel—how I'm supposed to feel. You're cruel and rude and you think you can just rule me like you do everyone else."

"I am your superior, Stiff. Or did our little fling make you forget that?"

"And that's just it," he whispered, his hand wrapping around her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips as he squeezed slightly before cupping her cheek. "I don't want this to be just a fling."

"Don't tell me you've developed feelings for me," she snorted. She leaned into his touch as his thumb stroked her skin, her lip between her teeth before she began speaking again. "I gave you a pass last night because it was your first time. You tend to get attached to your first sometimes."

Something dark flashed across her features and Tristan sighed softly. "You've always been on my mind, Erica. I think this began way before I kissed you."

"And here I thought you just wanted to pin me to the door and fuck me."

"That was my intent," he admitted, his tongue flicking over his lips as he stared down at her.

"Then stop with this bullshit talk and fuck me," she moaned, her back arching into him.

He shook his head. "I can't keep doing this."

She rolled her eyes. "Then let me go, Stiff."

He shook his head and she quirked an eyebrow at him. "If you wanted me to let you go, you would already be gone. You're more than capable of breaking out of _my_ hold."

She sighed softly, her silvery-blue orbs locking on him. "I thought we weren't going to discuss this now."

"You never want to discuss it."

"You don't want to go falling for me, Stiff." She swallowed hard and Tristan felt her hands tremble slightly. "I'm not good."

"Too late."

"Too late?"

"I'm way past falling," he whispered. Her features were so hard to read and he felt like she could see right through him.

He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over hers. She arched into his touch, her sigh rolling over him. "You should just let me go."

He stared at her for a long moment, her eyes like glass as she looked back up at him. "Is that an order?" Her eyebrows knitted together, her lips parting slightly. "If you order me away, I'll go. Things can go back to normal—as normal as they can be. I'll forget about you—about us. If that's what you want."

Silence stretched over them before she sucked in a deep breath. Tristan felt like there was a different girl in his arms—her features so vulnerable as she peered up at him. _No,_ he thought. _This has always been her—a facet she never shows to anyone._ "It's what you should do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I've always been bad about doing the things I should," he said before crashing his lips to hers.

Their lips molded together as their tongues danced for dominance, her tongue beating his as his fingertips gripped her hips. He hoisted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist. He pulled back to look at her, taking in her tussled blonde waves and the fruity scent of the product she uses to curl her silky strands. He took in her eyes, two moons peering up at him as her lips twitched up into a small smile. He pressed his lips to hers softly as he thrust up inside her, their moans mixing alongside their breaths.

* * *

 **I know, I ended it so soon ;) Haha, but there will be one more chapter to round it out. :)**

 **I have to post for the Bound to You series, Burning Roses, IHTBY, and then this. Then back to TLAMLY xD**

 **Follow/favorite/review, do the lovely things you do!**

 **Until next time, bye-bye! :)**


	4. an

Okay so this profile has been hacked. I dunno how long this will stay here or when they'll change the password.

But I have a new profile: DarkDesires101

I will try to continue my stories. There was a housefire and I lost all of the handwritten plans for them and my laptop fried so I dont have originals and they're no longer on here. So, it may be a while before I can continue them, I am so sorry. Love you all!

So, go to my new profile. I have new works I am working on to get myself back in the swing of things. I didn't abandon you. I just had a lot of stuff go down. Had to put my cat down, she was my baby. Then moved into a new house and the house burns down, like is reality real? I hand wrote my ideas and chapters for the stories and I lost it all. So, be patient with me please! In the meantime, I will have some new stuff up soon!

Love,

Darien :)


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